Honoring Exene Avril
Avril Heals was born out of grief, pain and profound love.
(left to right) Jae, Kat and Exene at the pool
a year ago today, our beloved friend Exene Avril Rodriguez died of suicide. prior to their death, the co-founders of Avril Heals (myself and Kat) worked closely with Exene at a startup. Kat was also a long-time friend of Exene’s-10 years to be exact. the start-up we worked at quickly turned into a place that felt toxic, chaotic, and unsafe for queer Black, Indigenous people of color. this organization we’ve built today was a dream we often talked about with Exene to survive our previous place of employment.
i feel so fucking lucky, grateful and honored to be alive and here today doing this work with my best friend and cofounder, Kat. in the last year, we’ve accomplished so much, but above all, we’ve survived. each morning, despite how hard it was to pull ourselves up, how unstable our futures felt, we still got out of bed. we had some days that were harder than others. some days we didn’t leave our apartments or take good care of ourselves.
but each day, we chose to stay alive, to build something beautiful together, and be better for ourselves and the world.
since the inception of Avril Heals, we knew we wanted a make a space that was truly for the people it was created by. with this in mind, we decided to center our services for people who’ve experienced gender & race based trauma–specifically: BIPOC, LGBTQAI2S+, folx who’ve experienced sexual harm, former/active sex workers, and first generation Americans and immigrants. all too often, those who experience trauma end up feeling isolated. studies have shown that PTSD disproportionately affects Black, Asian, and Latine communities and yet remains largely untreated in the U.S., with all marginalized groups less likely to seek PTSD treatment than white folx. additionally, studies have shown that queer people also experience higher stress and fewer feelings of community. seeking support while navigating trauma tends to be inaccessible, expensive, and also stigmatized in many communities.
the founders of Avril Heals are part of the very same statistics we refer back to as queer people of color who’ve experienced gender and race based trauma. we come to this work holding the intersections of our identities and celebrating our diverse skill sets. we collectively possess adaptability, compassion, experience in sexual trauma work, crisis intervention, and a desire to spread impactful ideas.
our work is trauma-informed and takes an abolitionist and transformative justice lens given our years of on the ground advocacy work in the Black Lives Matter movement and other resistance struggles.
given our dope background and experiences, we were able to kick things off pretty quickly–this wasn’t our first time building holistic healing services completely from scratch. with our knowledge, community, and passion, we successfully facilitated eight, 3-month-long virtual healing groups– two each quarter. we explored art healing, creative writing, crocheting, and even Animal Crossing. during these groups, we discussed topics like inner child healing, queerness/sexuality, and radical gentleness. we made abstract self-portraits, symbols of ourselves, and even fingerpainted. we wrote love letters to our bodies, created collaborative poems/songs, and explored “finish the sentence” prompts. on a scale of 0-10, the average rate of connectedness folx have reported feeling in our groups was a 10. i’ve also shared some beautiful testimonies below:
“It was honestly a healing & life changing experience. I hadn’t made art in so long and this experience allowed me to create without judgment and start using art again to process feelings & life and practice it as a coping mechanism.”
“It was such a great group to be around and hanging out writing with everyone became the highlight of my week. it was really wonderful to connect and hear about everyone's stories and creativity :')”
“I learned to process all of my emotions including sadness. I learned what it’s like to have people that genuinely care and having a safe space!”
“Amazingly non judgemental. Loved the attitude of meeting participants where they are mentally with no pressure to participate. Absolutely a safe space with not a speck of toxic positivity. What an awesome night <3”
one of my favorite sessions was during the creative writing group. the prompt was to write about one of our favorite moments in vivid details. i pondered what mine would be. graduating from NYU? moving to California? no, my favorite moment happened recently. my favorite moment, i came to realize, was one of the first night’s i was truly alone in my studio apartment. i’ve been homeless before. slept on floors. had no idea of where to go next. this studio was my first apartment that was truly mine. no one breathing down my neck. no one i felt indebted to for taking me in. it was just mine. that is what meant everything to me. my first real bed that i bought for and slept in by myself. a wall of my art and my art alone. purple strip lights i never turn off. in response to the prompt, i wrote of how i danced and i sang and i made my favorite meal and binge watched a show on this night–alone. that, was my favorite memory. it was a moment i truly felt safe– a feeling i haven’t had the privilege to experience too often. that, was what i cherished the most.
and as i shared what i wrote with the group, i saw so many head nods. heart emojis exploding all over the screen. words of affirmation in the chat. and as others started to share their stories too, i realized how similar theirs were– a late night with pizza and friends, being safely comforted and accepted after a big cry.
most of us don’t have a lot of those big life moments that folx think of when asked about their best one. and even if they do, these memories are often tied to pain. pain of the family who was present but now isn’t. of the abuse they experienced from the partner they wrote of. we all found the most profound beauty in the mundane and that doubled as we shared this amongst each other. our art is loud. it takes up space. it’s queer. it’s heart wrenching. it makes you uncomfortable. it pushes you. it makes you feel closer to each other. and here at Avril Heals, it’s all welcome. it’s all safe.
paintings created during the art healing groups. from left to right, their creators are Tori Herrera, Sasha Raee & Jae Ortiz
and in this space, anyone can lead. we are all the experts of our own experience. Sasha Raee was a member of our creative writing group, and when she saw that we were offering an art healing group, she asked how she could be a part of it. since then, Sasha and I have been co-facilitating the weekly art healing group. each week, we rotate leading sessions. we lean on each other when we need to. we guide the group members. and they guide us back too.
each week, we rotate leading sessions.
we lean on each other when we need to. we guide the group members.
and they guide us back too.
in addition to these groups that met weekly for two hours, we also regularly held workshops and series that were led by community members on topics like filmmaking, zine making, and blackout poetry.
we were so shocked by our first ever workshop; a zine making session that was facilitated by billie blossom.
it ended up having over 40 sign ups. folx created such colorful and creative zines based on each of the senses as a form of grounding.
shortly after, we held an introspective blackout poetry workshop, and then a 3-part filmmaking series. the film festival we hosted to wrap the filmmaking workshops up left me with the best kind of tears. folx created films around suicide and depression, inner child healing, queerness and celebrating the people in their lives and the work they do.
in the last year, we were also invited to table at the Foster Youth Flea Market, which led to us being invited to the Standing4BlackGirls Murdered & Missing Community Action. we tabled for International Whores Day which also led to being invited to Solidarity Project’s Queer Fair LA. when we table these events, we have “Make One, Take One” affirmation jars, stickers that say “I’m so glad you’re still here,” affirmation zines, and art supplies in case anyone wants to make a quick doodle. it’s so beautiful watching folx pull out and read an affirmation from someone who came before them, and then make their own to put into the jar. making space and taking space and making space and taking.
(image left) Jae talking to folx making affirmation strips at the queer fair (image right) Jae and others in front of the Avril Heals table posing for a photo
we’ve also been lucky enough to hold several in-person events in addition to our remote offerings. in November, we hosted a comedy show fundraiser in NYC in collaboration with Gimme a Break Comedy that completely sold out. it was overwhelming seeing so many people show up for us–some people even flying in to support. we’ve also held smaller fundraisers like a coffee & conchas event & a gay pancakes fundraiser. both of these took place in the backyard of our board member’s house in Boyle Heights. here, we held intimate community spaces where we crafted, did communal check-ins and affirmations, and celebrated queer joy.
photos from each of the fundraisers mentioned
recently, we hosted our biggest event yet: a comedy show as a celebration of our upcoming one year. we had a handmade jewelry vendor, lingerie & clothing vendor, a silent auction that included a weekend cabin stay at an Airbnb, a vibrant photobooth, more affirmation jars, and a great lineup of comics and speeches. we surpassed our fundraising goal. we cried together. we remembered Exene.
(left to right) Jae and Kat at the mic, audience members at the comedy show listening during the speech, That Bitch Thrift and her jewelry. photos by @modestpup on IG
in this work, Kat and i have always tried to be realistic about what we can and can’t do. one weekend as we both got overwhelmed because we had three, in-person podcast interviews scheduled and our first comedy show, i paused and told her, “hey, let’s just reschedule.” we both laughed realizing that we have that power–and that to lead the spaces we do, we should practice what we preach. we’ve tried to keep this energy of respecting our capacities throughout, given our other responsibilities since this work doesn’t really pay.
i’m starting grad school for art therapy in a few short weeks and have a 9-5, and Kat is over here producing and directing national ad campaigns for companies like Ritas.
we also have a strict No Sorrys policy here. as femmes, we tend to over apologize for things that aren’t our fault. if things don’t go as planned, we instead support each other to figure out how they can.
photo of the Rita’s ad Kat directed
in respecting our capacities while also pushing forward the growth of this org, we hope in this next year to do the following:
facilitate eight more 3-month-long creative community groups
host quarterly in-person events that center joy and community
publish a 50-page print magazine featuring the artwork and creative writing pieces our community members have created
gain three more partnerships that will help us access or serve as resources to direct our community members to
publish five more podcasts
and as we think even further down the line, as to how we’d like to be remembered, we hope that future generations will tell our story. Avril Heals–a group of marginalized trauma survivors who fought against cultural norms that caused intergenerational trauma. who created healing spaces for those affected by racial and gender-based harm.
we hope they’ll recall when those affected by said-harm generated psychological safety and accessible healing for themselves, and for posterity. folx were able to find spaces where they were given the option to be a leader or be led, learned psychoeducational coping tools, and found support they could lean on when they felt alone that honored different healing styles. people with suicidal ideation found a culture that didn’t shy away from discussing dark subjects that were commonly censored. and as Avril Heals expanded, they found both virtual and in-person communities where they didn't have to hide or repackage their identities and their trauma to be accepted. folx progressed in their healing journeys, found people to add to their chosen families, better understood their trauma responses, and left with the tools to self-regulate, practice self-care, and share this healing with the world.
We hope our work, the spaces that we create, and the love we lead with, honor Exene and other trauma survivors of color, like ourselves.
Exene, we miss you. i miss you. i hope you’re at peace. we will keep your legacy alive. we will make you proud.
